And the Horsemen walk
by VenomStorm
Summary: An AU to the show in which the apocalypse does occur from the first season onwards, and Sam and Dean fight to keep living a hunters life. Warning of possible language later on. Destiel and Sabriel later on, most likely.


**Hiya! I'm fairly new to , as well as general fanfiction writing- so I apologize in advance for spelling, or grammatical errors, if it frustrates you. This is my first fanfiction, and I also apologize for a probably overused plot (apocalypses are kind of an everyday Winchester thing), but here you go! I cannot guarantee constant updates, but I will try my best. Anyways, sorry for such a long Author's Note: enjoy!**

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His surroundings were silent, save for the sound the ashes underfoot made when they were stepped on. These days, silence was seen as either a curse, or a blessing. Sometimes, it was both.

It allowed them to hear the creatures that prowled about, given free reign, with the idea of society and civilization destroyed. That was, if the monster survived the severe depletion of their main food source; humans.

But this same silence allowed them to hear their own demons, the guilt that haunted the survivors. The demons that seemed to increase every day, with every choice that they made second-guessed.

Dean blew out a harsh but quiet breath, as his intense gaze scoured their bleak surroundings while he came to a halt. He may have been all kinds of pissed off, but it did no good to be louder than necessary. That did not do their odds of surviving this hell, for just one day longer, any favors.

The twenty-six year old eventually moved forward again, the sawed-off cold from disuse in his hands. Lately, supply runs had been uneventful, but also they had turned up a disturbing dwindling of supplies.

When one considered the fact that him and his little brother had barely used any supplies, it was enough to make the already paranoid Winchester wary of other possible...inhabitants.

It took him a mere hour to clean out the nearest shop of supplies, and then he returned to the abandoned house they had called home for the last week. He was cautious as he walked in, because in the apocalypse, everyone learned that you shot first and asked questions later.

Not much of a difference for those used to the hunter style. But for those who had grown out of such a lifestyle...Dean was made aware of a clicking noise and swung around to face Sam, who was pointing another sawed off at Dean.

A moment passed before Sam lowered the gun, and some of the tension drained out of both of their postures. Dean frowned at Sam, though, as he withdrew his silver knife.

"You've gotten soft. I could've been a shapeshifter. Or something like a ghoul." Sam shook his head, and messy hair flopped into his eyes, which he brushed away impatiently.

"Most monsters right now are too hungry to bother with trickery beyond basics. Not to mention I could've been any of those." Dean wordlessly performed the test on himself, then tossed the knife to Sam expectantly.

A scarlet line with no adverse reactions proved his brother was actually himself, and Dean relaxed as he shut the door.

"Doesn't matter, Sam. That kind of thinking gets hunters killed." Sam didn't argue farther, because arguing wasted time they didn't have. He'd sensed Dean's unspoken sign of something was wrong, and that held more importance at the moment.

"How much luck out there?" Dean shook his head, and unslung the pack from over his shoulder as he spoke.

"This place was already scarce when we arrived. It's been dwindling in supplies faster than we were using. I think it's supporting someone else." Sam frowned as he checked through the supplies to sort them out.

"Time to move on? We're making things difficult for both parties, especially if the other is more hostile." Dean paused for a moment, as he took a seat at the makeshift table they had built, to clean his gun.

"Yeah. We've been here for a while, anyways." Sam simply shook his head at that. They both knew that was Dean's way of saying that the less people, the better, but with every man for himself in the apocalypse...it was not unexpected.

"I'll go pack it up, then." He headed upstairs, to bring together the few items they kept with them that didn't already stay in some form of bag. Dean watched him go, and then shifted his gaze back to the weapon on the table.

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 **So! A chapter to introduce the Winchesters- I am trying to start out in what would've been the show's beginning, a little after Jess, but I don't think that wentover very well. Apologies for possible OOCness- next up will probably be an introduction of Gabriel and Castiel. There will most likely not be any angels or demons involved, as well, unless the plot changes? Anyways, thank you for reading!**


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